Stage Fright
by BlackDragon2016
Summary: Follow up story to Bad Timing. Dan and Phil are trying to recover from their awful experience. In the way to overcoming their problems they encounter unbreakable walls that they just can't get past. Neither of them wants to burden the other with their worries and fears, but they might just find that they're each others key to unlock happiness again.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Dan's POV

If none of this had ever happened, I could've been sitting on twitter or tumblr and browsing through my fan's tweets and posts.

Then again, if none of this had ever happened I wouldn't have held Phil's hand. Which I still felt mixed feelings about. Technically he grabbed for mine first, but it's not like I expressed a disliking to it. I tried to push these thoughts to the back corner of my mind.

It's not like it matters anyway after what we've been through. He hasn't mentioned it since, and neither will I.

I reached out for a bowl in the cupboard above my head. I got it down and went to look for the cereal I had bought yesterday. Wait, where is it? It's not in its usual spot. Oh come on! Did Phil seriously eat all of it already? This was ridiculous!

I'm not letting him get away with it this time. Oh, no. He's secretly been eating my cereal for long enough. I marched off to his room, ignoring the closed door and barging in.

"Phil, I can't believe you-" I cut off mid – sentence as I realized that he was curled up asleep on his bed, the covers wrapped around him. He was snoring softly and was hugging a pillow to his chest.

I sighed. I wasn't going to wake him up. I mean it was 2 in the afternoon, but I know he hardly sleeps at all now, and it was very easy to tell by the bags under his eyes. I noticed he even still had his glasses on, apparently having fallen asleep before putting them on his nightstand.

"The things I do for you," I muttered, walking over and taking the glasses off of his face and folding them. Some black strands of hair that was held up by the frames fell into his face, obscuring his eyebrow and eye. I fought the urge to tuck it back and instead put his glasses down on the table besides his bed for when he wakes up.

I turned around, about to head out of the room when I noticed my box of cereal sitting on his dresser next to his Black Butler plush. I scoffed, grabbing it and leaving, making sure to close the door softly. Not that it really mattered when it came town to it. Phil could sleep through a bombing.

I made myself the bowl of cereal and sat down on the couch, pondering about life. Had we started back YouTube, even after all of these months? Ha, no. Hadn't even done a single radio show either. I want to, don't get me wrong, I'm just, well, afraid to show my face again to the public. You'd think six months after the incident would be enough to recover, but no. Really, no amount of time would ever heal our emotional wounds, only help us to push it to the back of our minds. My fingers lightly brushed against my cheek, where the scar was located. Even though me and Phil can never forget, it would also unfortunately never let those around us to forget either.

Had we contacted out friends and family? Yeah, for the most part. Not that I really wanted to talk to them, but Phil felt guilty for shutting them out. Even though Phil's had his cast removed and all he had to do was to take some pain killers if his ribs started bothering him and ones for anxiety, people treated us differently, and I guess that was one of the things I hated most. Our friends acting like we were breakable and fragile. How are we ever going to get past this is they keep reminding us of the past? If they keep treating us differently from normal, how are we to experience how are lives were before this all happened?

Oh, who am I kidding. Me and Phil both know nothing is the same anymore. We aren't the same anymore. We have changed, and everyone else was still the same.

So why do I constantly feel that I can no longer catch up to them? That my former friends are too far away to reach? The only person I'm close to now is Phil.

"Hey." Speaking of him, I turned around to his him standing with his pj's on with his glasses perched on his face. He was blinking sleep out of his eyes, and his voice sounded deep and tired.

"Hey," I answered. "Did you sleep well?"

"No. Only got three hours." He plunked himself on the couch next to me, yawning which in turn made me yawn.

I put my bowl of cereal down on my lap. "Do you want to do anything today?" We haven't left the house very much except to go to the store and the rare walk.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you want sounds good."

"We could walk to Starbucks." I suggested. I'm sure Phil was in the mood for a coffee.

"Okay, that's fine." He stared tiredly off into space.

"Phil, you have to actually get up and ready to go," I reminded him softly. He shook himself out of his tired daze and stood up slowly.

"Yeah. I'm going to go take a shower. Be out in ten." He walked off to go into the bathroom. I heard the water start.

Phil seemed exhausted all the time. I was tired as well, afraid to go to sleep at night, but he seemed to be constantly slouching and bumping into walls, at least a lot more frequently. Anytime I try to talk to him about it, though, he tells me not to worry about it. How can I _not_ worry about it?

Ugh. My brain feels overloaded with thoughts. A headache was forming. I got up to go see if we had some Advil in the cabinet, moving things aside to look for a bottle of pills. I only found Phil's anxiety relieving medication.

Wait a minute. Why the hell did it look like the bottle hadn't even been opened yet? He was supposed to be taking these everyday. I picked up the full pill container, examining it. Doesn't look like he's even taken one, and these had been prescribed to him for about five weeks now.

Why wasn't he taking his medicine? I heard the water from the shower turn off. I'm going to wait until he gets out here to talk to him about this.

After above five minutes Phil walked into the kitchen with a slightly less sleepy expression. "Hey wha-"

His eyes noticed the bottle gripped tightly in my left fist and he stopped talking. I raised my eyebrows at him. "Phil, why haven't you been taking these?"

He visibly gulped. "W-well I keep forgetting to take them." He bit his lip nervously.

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. "For five weeks?" I asked skeptically.

"Yeah, I'm sorry…I've just had a lot on my mind I guess…"

Something about that seemed a little off, but I know by now when he gets a certain look on his face he's not going to say anything else. I sighed. "Alright. Just don't forget to take your anxiety pills."

An almost thankful look flashed on his face. "I won't; I'll put them on my bedside table right now." He grabbed for the bottle and I gave it to him, sighing. Phil went into his room and I stood in the same spot for several minutes, deep in thought. Then shrugging it off I made my way to the bathroom and took a shower.

* * *

I stood in line with Phil to order our coffees. It was quite long, as expected on a Friday afternoon.

Then I remembered something that I had forgotten. "Phil," I said turning to him, "Why were you eating my cereal again today?"

He immediately looked guilty and giggled a little, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. "I still can't help it! You need a safe to store your food in."

I looked at him in mock outrage. "I wouldn't need one if you stopped eating my food!"

"I have a problem!"

About four minutes later we were both sat down at a small table away from most people in a corner with our drinks.

I smirked. "Phil, did you see how the cashier lady was hitting on you?" When it was our turn to order she practically had all eyes for my flat mate, even purposely brushing her hand against his when Phil gave her money for the order.

He blushed and took a big drink of his coffee. "What if she comes over here to ask you on a date? Will you accept?" I teased.

"No." he answered, his eyes flickering downwards to his cup. I've never seen him this uncomfortable whenever I tease him about something like this, and it only made my smile wider.

"Why not?" I asked, giving him a clueless look. "She obviously adores you by the way she still keeps glancing over at you from behind the cash register."

Phil said nothing, but smiled a little at the table, glancing back up at me. "If she comes I'll tell her I'm not interested."

Something about his expression made the next words die on my tongue. I don't even know half of the emotions crossing my mind at the moment. I laughed a little awkwardly. "Yeah, you do that."


	2. Chapter 2- Nightmares

Chapter 2- Nightmares

Phil's POV

"Just do it. Just kill him. He deserves it. End his life. Right now. Don't you want to feel your need for revenge satisfied? He's helpless in front of you." The man, the one, my kidnapper, was bound in chains in front of me. He looked up at me with wide and terrified eyes, pleading with me silently.

My grip tightened on the knife that somehow appeared in my right hand. "No.." I whispered. "I can't do it."

The voice spoke up, resonating everywhere. "Yes you can," it urged. "You can show everyone you're strong enough. All you have to do is use the blade in your hands."

I panted heavily, sweat trickling down my forehead. "No, no, no." I can't kill another person. No matter what the pain they caused me.

The man was trembling before me, whimpering like a dog. "Look at him. This the perfect moment. You must take this opportunity." The voice sounded familiar yet not at the same time. It seemed more like a presence, wrapping around me like a snake.

Panic flared inside me. I tried loosening my grip on the weapon to drop it, but it was like the handle was glued to my palm. "W-why can't I let go? Did you do something to me?"

"I did nothing. This is all you. You're the only one keeping the knife in your hand."

My eyes widened. No, that's not true, the presence was doing something, making me grip the black handle of the blade. "How do I let go then!?" I demanded. The man in front of me was sobbing now, making large puddles that seemed to be growing by the second.

"Don't you want this?" The voice asked instead. "Think of how much this man has taken from you. Surely it's only fair you give him the same treatment he gave you."

No. That's not how the world works. But a strange feeling welled up inside me, replacing the panic. "No, I'm not gonna kill him," I stated, my voice coming out weak.

"You would really betray Dan like that? Would you rather have this man on the loose and wait around for him to kill your best friend?"

"No!" I yelled. I looked at the kidnapper. His name supposedly was Robert. A normal human name. His eyes conveyed terror, and it was directed at me. _As it should._ My eyebrows knitted in confusion. _He's going to kill Dan if you don't kill him first_. The voice was inside my head now. How do I get it out!? What the hell is happening!? I don't want Dan to die. Tears streamed down my face, making the floor underneath everything a giant pool of water. A lake of tears, mine and Robert's. "Get out of me!" I screamed.

 _You know if you let him go he'll come back after you and Dan. He wasn't finished. Trust me when I say he will complete his job if you give him the chance._

I instantly believed the voice. I knew within my being that if I didn't put an end to him, he would end me. "B-b-but…"

 _I'll be easy. Remember, he deserves every bit of pain. Every drop of blood._

I stepped towards the man, my breathing heavy. I clenched the knife even tighter. Robert screamed and I stopped. _Go on. Make him pay for everything_.

I walked until I was right in front of him and I looked down. He looked up at me with the hazel eyes that were etched into my memory. "I…I can't do this," I whispered.

 _Do it._

"No."

 _Do it now._

"No…"

 _DO IT NOW!_

I cried out, closing my eyes and plunging the knife into his body.

 _MAKE HIM PAY. MAKE HIM SHED THE AMOUNT OF BLOOD THAT YOU DID! HE DESERVES THIS!_

I pulled out the knife, opening my eyes. What I saw made my eyes widen in horror. Robert lay dead, his eyes staring lifelessly at me. Blood poured out of the wound I made in his throat and strained the lake under us red.

I let out a strangled cry, falling to the ground. Unable to take my eyes away from the corpse. What have I done? What has that voice made me do? "Why did you make me do this!?"

 _I told you. I haven't made you do anything._

"W-who are you?" I asked, my voice shaking.

 _Don't you know?_

 _I'm you_.

I woke up with a jolt, my entire body trembling. I could feel that my cheeks were wet with tears, and more kept flowing down my face. I whimpered, pulling my legs closer to myself and hugging them to my chest.

Robert, his dead body lying in front of me. His blood staining everything red… I cried out. "Oh my god…"

I had killed him. That other voice had been me. Somewhere in me was a monster who had actually wanted to sink the knife in, who felt joy at the revenge. "I'm a m-m-monster."

I could _feel_ the small bit of satisfaction. I quickly stuffed my mouth with my duvet to muffle the sobs that were escaping. I don't want to wake Dan up, no matter what I do. I needed to be strong for him. I had promised to be strong enough to support us both. I can't let him see me like this.

My breath hitched and my chest felt like it was getting tighter and harder to breathe. But no matter what, I'm not waking Dan up.


End file.
